She sun was setting behind Monte Maggiore, the fishing smacks¹ were coming home, Luigi had long since carried the tea things into the house; but still the two callers lingered on the terrace of Villa² Rosa. It was Lieutenant³ di Ferara’s place to go first since he had come first, and Captain Coroloni doggedly⁴ held his post until such time as his junior officer should see fit to take himself off. The captain knew, as well as everyone else at the officer’s mess, that in the end the lieutenant would be the favored man; for he was a son of Count Guido di Ferara of Turin, and titles are at a premium⁵ in the American market. But still the marriage contract was not signed yet, and the fact remained that the captain had come last: accordingly he waited.
 
  They had been there fully⁶ two hours, and poor Miss Hazel was worn with the strain. She sat nervously⁷ on the edge of her chair, and leaned forward with clasped hands listening intently. It required very keen attention to keep the run of either the captain’s or the lieutenant’s English. A few days before she had laughed at what seemed to be a funny story, and had later learned that it was an announcement of the death of the lieutenant’s grandmother. Today she confined her answers to inarticulate murmurs⁸ which might be interpreted as either assents⁹ or negations as the case required.
 
Constance however was buoyantly at her ease; she loved nothing better than the excitement of a difficult situation. As she bridged over pauses, and unobtrusively translated from the officer’s English into real English, she at the same time kept a watchful¹⁰ eye on the water. She had her own reasons for wishing to detain the callers until her father’s return.
 
  Presently she saw, across the lake, a yellow sailboat float out from the shadow of Monte Maggiore and head in a long tack¹¹ toward Villa Rosa. With this she gave up the task of keeping the conversation general; and abandoning Captain Coroloni to her aunt, she strolled over to the terrace parapet with Lieutenant di Ferara at her side. The picture they made was a charming color scheme. Constance wore white, the lieutenant pale blue; an oleander tree beside them showed a cloud of pink blossoms, while behind them for a background, appeared the rose of the villa wall and the deep green of cypresses¹² against a sunset sky. The picture was particularly effective as seen from the point of view of an approaching boat.
 
Constance broke off a spray of oleander, and while she listened to the lieutenant’s recountal of a practice march, she picked up his hat from the balustrade and idly arranged the flowers in the vizor. He bent¹³ toward her and said something; she responded with a laugh. They were both   too occupied to notice that the boat had floated close in shore, until the flap of the falling sail announced its presence. Constance glanced up with a start. She caught her father’s eye fixed¹⁴ anxiously upon her; whatever Gustavo and the officer’s mess of the tenth cavalry¹⁵ might think, he had not the slightest wish in the world to see his daughter the Contessa di Ferara. Tony’s face also wore an expression; he was sober, disgusted, disdainful; there was a glint of anger and determination in his eye. Constance hurried to the water steps to greet her father. Of Tony she took no manner of notice; if a man elects to be a donkey-driver, he must swallow the insults that go with the part.
 
The officers, observing that Luigi was hovering¹⁶ about the doorway¹⁷ waiting to announce dinner, waived¹⁸ the question of precedence and made their adieus. While Mr. Wilder and Miss Hazel were intent on the captain’s labored¹⁹ farewell speech, the lieutenant crossed to Constance who still stood at the head of the water steps.   He murmured something in Italian as he bowed over her hand and raised it to his lips. Constance blushed very becomingly as she drew her hand away; she was aware, if the officer was not, that Tony was standing²⁰ beside them looking on. But as he raised his eyes, he too became aware of it; the man’s expression was more than impertinent. The lieutenant stepped to his side and said something low and rapid, something which should have made a right-minded donkey-driver touch his hat and slink off. But Tony held his ground with a laugh which was more impertinent than the stare had been. The lieutenant’s face flushed angrily and his hand half instinctively²¹ went to his sword. Constance stepped forward.
 
“Tony! I shall have no further need of your services. You may go.”
 
Tony suddenly came to his senses.
 
“I—beg your pardon, Miss Wilder,” he stammered²².
 
“I shall not want you again; please go.” She turned her back and joined the others.
 
The two officers with final salutes²³ took   themselves off. Miss Hazel hurried indoors to make ready for dinner; Mr. Wilder followed in her wake, muttering something about finding the change to pay Tony. Constance stood where they left her, staring at the pavement with hotly burning cheeks.
 
“Miss Wilder!” Tony crossed to her side; his manner was humble—actually humble—the usual mocking u............